could always be, enough for him. With him, she would never have to
spend nights wondering, worrying, aching. And she would never, never,
feel that thrill of unity, of rightness, of belonging.
She gave him all she could, arching up to him, opening for him,
accepting, even welcoming him into her. Her body didn't shudder as his
did, her heart didn't threaten to burst through the wall of her chest.
But after a good, clean climax came the peace. And she was grateful.
But she should have known such simple things don't last.
The candles still flickered as he drew her close, to hold her warmth to
him. He loved the serenity that always cloaked her after sex, the
complete and somehow elegant stillness of her body.
Her eyes were half closed, her lips soft and just parted. Her limbs
were pliant. If he rested his head, as he often did, on her breast, he
would hear the strong, steady beat of her heart.
Sometimes they talked like this-as he had never talked with his wife of
seven years. They talked of what had happened to them during the day,
or what had happened to the world. Or they lay and listened to the
radib that had played during their lovemaking. They would drift to
sleep like that, quiet and content. And in the morning he would wake,
dazzled and delighted that she was beside him.
He shifted her so that he could brush his hand through her hair. "The
divorce is going through."
Roused out of a half-doze, she opened her eyes and watched the pattern
of light and shadow on the wall. "I'm glad."
"Are you?"
"Of course. I know how hard it's been on you the last few weeks. You
want it behind you."
"I do. I married Angie for the wrong reasons, Bev. I wanted to settle
down so badly, to have a wife, a home, a family. Of course that monster
in Beverly Hills was never a home, and she always had an excellent
excuse for putting off starting a family. Just as well. I was as poor
a choice for her as she was for me."
She linked her fingers with his. "You're too hard on yourself"
"No, it's true. I was a career choice for Angie. The pity is, she
didn't realize I was fond enough of her once to have helped her there
without marriage. But we jumped in and were both too lazy or too
cautious to jump out again when it went bad." He studied her fingers,
long and slender, tangled with his chunky ones. "Looking back, I can
see every mistake so clearly. I won't make them again, Bev-if you give
me a chance."
"P.M." She moved then, flustered and frightened. His hands came to her
shoulders, surprisingly firm, holding her face-to-face.
"I want you to marry me, Bev, for all the right reasons."
She hesitated, surprising herself. The answer didn't come through her
lips as quickly, as surely, as it had jumped into her head. It was her
heart that stopped it, she realized. Her heart that wanted to give him
what he wanted. She lifted her hands to cover his.
"I can't. I'm so sorry I can't."
He stared at her, watching her eyes, the regret in them-and the trace of
pity that made him want to scream. "Because of Brian."